Of Death and Titans
by Zayden998
Summary: Harry Potter would never have a normal life, he knew that. So landing in a strange land and being captured by an evil warlord Barney shouldn't have surprised him... right? Follow this story as Harry Potter travels through the marvel universe with his new friend, Deadpool. How will he deal with demigods and supersoldiers with ghosts haunting their pasts and future? MoD, summoned fic


**Hello readers :)**

**This is my new story, and it is a prequel of sorts to Wraith - the Fleeting Shadow. Abit of this story shall overlap with that one, so if you want to check that out as well, go right ahead. I would appreciate any feedback you have.**

**Disclaimer, I own nothing except the plot.**

Screams reverberated of the fragile walls, the pain, and anguish raw and intense as it made itself known to his struggling figure. Enamine's very existence had been built around this place; his very purpose forged in iron among these once sturdy stone walls. All Enamine had ever strived for, all he had built, every connection he had ever formed. It was all crumbling around him. His family and friends fighting for their lives, fighting for life, fighting for friendship, fighting for all they stood to lose.

They were the resistance, the culmination of the decimated planets refugees. The survivors of Thanos's 'cleansing'. What the mad titan defined as balancing the universe, the death of millions. Not everyone had joined, some wished to not attract the Titans wrath, and they respected them for that. But there were some, those who lost loved ones or entire families. There were some who lost the ones they held most dear or those who lost absolutely everything to the Titans genocidal acts. Those who seethed in anger, those who swore vengeance, those who desired the mad bastard's blood to seep into the ground. Those who had nothing left to lose.

And yet they had built connections, they had built a family. Maybe not from the pleasures of the flesh, but from the camaraderie that formed between each and every one of them. The connections forged were stronger than anything and could never be broken. What had started out as a bunch of broken misfits slowly turned into a unit, a powerful family that had each other's back and never left a man or woman behind.

They weren't infallible, they knew and accepted that. And it was clear that they weren't immortal, the losses they faced making it plain and clear. They weren't on a mission for their own lives, no, they had lost everything. All they had was each other. They were on a mission of life, the life of all those unaffected, the lives of all those who would be affected. The lives of those who had yet to be affected, the planets that the mad titan had yet to set his sights upon. They desire for revenge balanced by their desire for life, their desire to save as many as they possibly can.

They knew and accepted that this may draw the ire of the mad bastard, they accepted that and they prepared for that. They knew that one day they would be forced to lay down their life for one another, to defend those who could not defend themselves or jump between the imminent death of their comrades. To make the ultimate sacrifice for one another, because if they couldn't do that for one another, what were they even doing? What were they even striving for?

No, they would fight and die for one another. They would save as many as possible, they would fight and survive, they would fight and die. They would do these ultimate acts for those around them, they would sacrifice themselves so their comrades may survive and they may rest in peace, once more reunited with their families.

But they had a secret, a weapon, a secret project. They had kept it hidden, known only to a few. They were vigilant, they had to be. Supergiant was no joke, given the chance she would sadistically wrench all you know from your mind and leave them a drooling mess.

She was a sadistic bitch; he had heard tales of her victims. Pale and glassy-eyed, dead to the world. She had left them a mumbling incoherent mess, brain dead and insane to all the world. Their psychics avoided entering the minds of those decimated by Supergiant's sadistic negligence. All they would ever tell them was that there was no chance of recovery, no chance of reprieve. That it would be a mercy to end their insanity. He had lost count of how many of his comrades lives he had taken if only to spare them a senseless existence of pure oblivion. Better to allow their souls to be reunited with their loved ones.

He could remember each and every face, each and every life, each and every funeral. He could still remember each and every name, each and every story, each and every legacy. He had to, he needed to carry on each legacy, he needed to remember them and their sacrifice.

Andal, he sighed, remembering the man's blank eyes that he had closed forever. Andal was a great man who had been forced to watch his family slaughtered, forced to watch his family be dragged away from his helpless grip.

They had divided the town, dragging each and every one of them kicking and screaming. Their protests falling upon deaf ears, their tears ignored. Andal had let go for only a moment, a moment too long. His daughter, Cynthia, she had lost her grip among the chaos. Her small 7-year-old hands being torn from her family's grip. He could remember Andal's sorrowful story, the man had released his wife and his son, in search of his daughter. Screaming at them to run, that he would find them, that they would live. But he had failed.

Andal had found his daughter, fighting the mad titan's army. The alien bastard had a firm grip upon her collar, dragging her kicking and screaming as Andal's eyes flew wide. The bastard was dragging his daughter to the side that would be slaughtered, the side that would bid their final goodbyes. The side that would die to correct the imbalance, the fragile ecosystem, the sparse housing.

Andal had gone ballistic, fighting for his life and the life of his family. Fighting for his daughter, fighting for her, fighting for her innocence. She was too young to die; she was too young. She had her whole life ahead of her, a whole world, a whole universe of untapped potential. He nearly succeeded too.

With a firm piece of timber clenched in his hands, he had sprinted at the alien, a roar on his lips. Swinging with all his might he had broken his wooden weapon across the shoulders of the guard. His attack bore fruit as his daughter finally managed to fight from his grip. Running into her father's open arms. From there Andal had run, he had carried his daughter upon his shoulders as he fled from Thanos's forces. He had run, dodging ballistic fire and weaving through the terrified inhabitants of his home planet. He needed to disappear, to lose them before they had the chance to separate father and daughter. He could only hope that the rest of his family had survived.

That was when his life had truly spiraled downhill. Almost literally. He had glanced around, having hidden among the rubble of his destroyed home, Thanos's forces had already scoped this area so they had a few sparse minutes of downtime. Upon gazing out his bedroom window, Andal almost lea[t straight through. If only for his daughter, tears trailing from her gaze as she huddled in a corner, her favorite teddy clutched in her grip.

The next few minutes consisted of far-ranging emotions, from high to low, to angry and depressed to more than a few tissues being passed around. Andal had told the tale of how he attempted to save his family, how he had spotted them, trapped upon the far side of the line. Set for death. He told a tale of how his life came crumbling before his -and many others- eyes. How everything he had built, every connection he had made. Everybody he ever cared about was taken from him. He told a tale of how he had fought a futile battle against the invading armies' forces. Only to lose it all when they captured him and discovered his daughter, hidden away. Told a tale of how they forced his to watch -shackled upon the side sentenced to survive the genocide- as his daughter was dragged, kicking and screaming across the line. How his daughter was thrown to the open arms of her mother and son as they embraced one another. How he had been forced to watch, screaming in pain and anguish as half his population was slaughtered. Forced to watch as his wife held his gaze, smiling resignedly at her husband as he fought to escape his bonds. His throat aching from his constant screams of protest, his begs for mercy. But none came.

He had watched, transfixed as his wife and children were mowed down. She had tried to stay strong, for him. But he could see the pain in her eyes, the tears falling unbidden down her pearlescent skin. He had watched as his family was mowed down, as they fell to their knees and cried out as the energy blasts tore through their bodies. As the blood pooled, as life left their eyes. Andal had spoken of the pain he felt, the absolute loss. The vacancy within his very soul as he watched the life leave his families eyes, the reassuring smiles his wife had sent him, the love conveyed as she grunted and fell to her knees. Andal had spoken of the absolute quiet, the tension that hung in the air. The emptiness that all felt as they saw their loved ones, their families, their neighbors, their rivals, their enemies, their crushes. Half the population had died that day, and half the planet mourned their loss. Some people resorting to violence and anger while others solitude and death. There were the lucky few that managed to survive, their family intact. They were the lucky ones, the ones that, while never being able to live a normal life. Could live in peace that they didn't lose the ones they loved most.

After they were finished, after the dust settled, after the blast of gunfire finally died down, they finally released him. Throwing him to the dirt as they departed the planet, they would clear away the bodies another day. Andal had spoken of how he had scrambled through the blood laden ground, desperate to reach his family, desperate to find them alive. He had spoken of how he had found them; his wife, son, and daughter. How he had held them in his arms, their blood staining his torn clothes. He spoke of how he held them in his arms. How he desperately searched for a pulse, even a flicker, a flicker of hope, a flicker of life. An indication that life still remained, that hope remained within their mortal forms. To find none. He spoke of the emptiness which accompanied, an emptiness that resonated among many of the resistance as they listen, sharing his pain as they reflected upon their own.

The resistance had found him, well, he had found them. He had joined them, not for himself, but to fight for the lives of those who couldn't fight for themselves. He had fought tooth and nail to prevent people from suffering like he did, from feeling the loss that he felt. He had been a hero, a great man, someone who many within the resistance would gladly stand by and call a brother. Someone who everyone could trust and vouch for. Someone who every member of the resistance would have given their lives for. But on one fateful mission he pushed too hard, he pushed too fiercely, he fought too valiantly. He had sacrificed too much.

The resistance was assisting the planet of Magrath, a planet beset by Thanos's forces and the next planet upon The Mad Titan's genocidal list. They had fought tooth and nail, ambushing troops and evacuating all they could. But it was on their final attack, their last-ditch effort to save the civilians. Andal had been leading the mission and took twenty men with him to ambush what was perceived as an outlier among the traversing army squads. The easy mission, a sure thing. But in war nothing ever was a sure thing, they should have known that.

They had recovered the man, barely. But after Supergiant had had her fun, there was barely anything left, mentally at any rate. Enamine could still see the man's eyes, the glassy blue eyes of the man who he held such high regard of, the man who held his utmost respect. He remembered what it felt like, to end their lives. The loss, the pain. When the connection is severed once and for all. He didn't enjoy ending their lives, but he took the burden so others didn't have too. He ended his comrade's lives so the burden of the responsibility may never fall upon another's shoulders.

Now here he was, running for his life and throwing himself around corners to evade their invading forces. They weren't here to halve the population, not, they were here to remove the thorn in their side, to eradicate the rebellion. Some people may consider his actions cowardice, and to some, they would be correct. But he was no coward. In his hands, he clutched vital information, something that could save them all. Something that could finally defeat Thanos. He couldn't afford to lose it; he couldn't afford it to fall into the hands of their enemies or lost forever among their bloody remains. No, he had to reach his destination.

Over the last few years they had been working on a weapon, something that could finally end the mad titan's reign of terror and genocide. Something that could save billions all around the galaxy. He held the final piece, the missing runes, the last hope for theirs and the universe's survival.

They had kept quiet, reserving the information to the people who never left the base. Not wanting word of their plans to leak out, especially if Supergiant got a grip upon their minds. All would be lost.

Diving through a doorway, he narrowly avoided an explosive bolt as it flew past him. He had lost count of how many of his friends he had passed, dead or dying. Many of them fighting for their lives as they saw him fly past, while others were embracing their family on the other side. Having succumbed to their wounds.

His chest ached as he forced himself to go faster, to dodge blasts and soldier fire, to leap over rubble and to duck through secret passages. Finally, he quickly typed out the password upon the keypad, willing the door to open faster as the pad glowed green.

Inside he found the last vestiges of his family, the last remaining members of the resistance that wasn't fighting for their lives or the lives of their friends. "Get this in there now!" No time to waste, he gave the runes to the scientists as they quickly set about preparing. What they were attempting to do required an immense amount of energy, so much that it would drain the planet of its natural energies. They would need to evacuate, should they survive. But at least they would have their weapon, their final hope.

They were attempting a summoning ritual, their last-ditch effort to summon someone with the strength, the capability to defeat Thanos. Someone who could stand against the mighty forces and survive. This was their last chance, their final hope. When they had originally discovered the information, they barely hoped to believe it was possible. But here it was, the runic diagram was all set up. Everything they could possibly need lay before them.

A banging upon the door interrupted his musing, '_shit, they're here!'_. Glancing at the fearful scientists, he barked "Finish laying the runes, the Activate the damn thing." They nodded, grim determination clouding their fear. This is what they signed up for, they knew the risks, they knew the costs. It had to be done. Enamine felt a little bad for whoever they were summoning, thrown into war. For all they knew, the guy may be living a peaceful life and to be pulled into this devastation? But in the face of billions, Enamine knew he had to make the tough decisions. They knew the man was their last hope, they had added a rune that would also search for someone who was _willing_ to help. They wouldn't get anywhere if the guy didn't want to help. That wouldn't save anyone.

Rushing towards the slowly weakening door, he glanced around desperately for _anything_ that could help them. Something that could halt their approach or prevent it completely. Enamine could hear the Black Order shouting commands, slaughtering his comrades. He could tell it was Black Dwarf himself who was hammering down their door. He would recognize that deep, animalistic breathing anywhere. Having evaded the beast's sight when they were on stealth missions through enemy territory. He knew the door wouldn't survive much longer, not under his onslaught.

Glancing at the runic configuration, he could tell that it was almost complete. Despite the situation, the scientists were treating them with the utmost care. They couldn't afford to fail, not now. Not ever.

Over the next fifteen minutes, Enamine did all he could to retain the door's integrity, but he knew it was a losing battle. He knew the scientists needed a few more minutes, and he would do all he could to provide it for them

He knew they wouldn't survive this, there was no escape for them. They had no, they had no hidden escapes, they had no escape jets. No, his whole life, his whole existence, his whole family. Related or not. They were laid down before the Black Order, slain. Negligent or otherwise. No, there was no escape for him. This is the end game. This is his sacrifice, this is his contribution, his final act would ensure that the universe survives. It had to, and he shall embrace his friends and family upon the other side, content in the knowledge that the resistance had made a difference, a real difference.

He had had -like many before him- a difficult life. At the age of thirteen he had been dragged from his home, the city ablaze and soldiers littering the streets. He could see his friends, family, neighbors, everybody he ever knew. They were fighting for their lives and salvation, fighting tooth and nail. Screams cut through the air, as piercing as the crack of a whip. Everywhere he looked, he saw families fighting to be with each other. Mothers and daughters terrified as their fathers attempted to defend them. Bodies littered the streets, the smell of burning flesh permeating the air as Thanos's forces tore apart their meagre resistance. They were only a small village, set apart from the main city as they remained segregated from the main cities. They were peaceful, set apart from conflict and war. Separated from politics and strife.

Enamine had glanced around desperately, attempting to escape the soldier's firm grip. But it was futile. All Enamine really remembered was being dragged through the streets, watching helplessly as his friends and family were slaughtered. He could do nothing, he couldn't escape. He had never felt more helpless than in that moment. That was a defining moment in his life, a moment that truly set about the changes and the lead up to his destiny. He remembered being thrown in a cage, surrounded by other kids his age or younger. He remembered conversing with them, consoling them. Though in himself, he felt helpless, desolate, lonely, empty. He still set about to reassure those around him, he had to help in any way he could if only to block out the voices. The voices of those who lay bleeding upon the ground, mocking his uselessness. Mocking his inability to help. Mocking his weakness.

He remembered being saved, the resistance managing to smuggle them away, rescuing them from the grips of the Black Order. From there he had stayed with the resistance, forming connections and working his way up the ranks. He had spent many years to get to where he was now, and he had done many unforgivable things. But he didn't regret any of them. Every step he took, every action, every life laid bare. They all lead to this point, they had led him to his destiny, his contribution to the universe. No one would know, no one would remember his name, no one would remember any of the people who had sacrificed themselves and contributed to this goal. But it was enough for him to know that he would make a difference, it was enough to know that the resistance had made a difference.

"IT'S DONE!" Carlinto shouted, desperately scrambling to where he could activate the runic configuration. Rushing to his side, Enamine watched as Carlinto's fingers flew over the controls, dozens of letters spiraling onto the page as he worked at an insane rate. Glancing over his shoulder, Enamine could see the door was about to buckle and was on its last legs. He could hear the shouts of triumph, the anticipation to slaughter the cornered prey building within the ranks outside the doors.

All screaming had ceased, and Enamine knew what that entailed. He knew they were the last ones still fighting, the last ones still suffering, the last ones who could make a difference.

Finally, the configuration alit in multicolored light. A broad spectrum blinding the eyes and erupting, coalescing into a large floating mass of energy. Contorting and undulating the orb floated there for a moment before exploding outwards, dark tendrils of power reaching deep within the earth as they absorbed the power required for such an immense configuration.

As the door exploded and the soldiers flooded through, Enamine was satisfied to know that they couldn't stop what was coming. They couldn't undo the work that they had achieved. They couldn't prevent the runes from completing their task.

He closed his eyes and embraced the darkness that encroached upon his vision, the Black Dwarfs bloody hammer slamming him against the wall.

He smiled to himself, he would finally be reunited with his family. His mother, his father, all those he had dearly missed since his abduction.

He was content with that.

**So what did you think?**


End file.
